


Overwhelmed

by eppyweppy



Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: Torture, contractor versus contractor, hurt!hai, teamfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eppyweppy/pseuds/eppyweppy
Summary: Hai is sent on a mention to take down a dangerous contractor. Without knowledge of the powers the contractor has, he goes in blind. He is injured severely, and his team is given the task of taking care of him. No pairings. Takes place early Season 1.





	1. Chapter 1

Hei's dark blue eyes scanned the empty road, searching for a sign of his target. Another contractor, with unknown powers who had become a target of the Syndicate for unknown reasons. It wasn't his job to question his missions, and this one being rather straightforward gave him little interest in finding out. Kill the contractor, end of the job. Mao was nearby, likely scanning for the contractor as well in the form of a bird with its keen eyes. Yin had told them that she had found the contractor close by the fountain. He saw her specter for just a moment, shimmering mysteriously before sinking away into the water. 

"Got him. He's at the edge of the west street. Doesn't seem to be doing anything," Mao's voice said through the com in his ear. 

Hei moved immediately, rushing silently towards the street. Mao was most likely returning to his cat body and leaving the scene before anything major went down. Especially without knowing what the contractor's powers were.

He wasn't extremely keen on going in blind, not knowing what the man was capable of. The guy could be anything from a gravity shifter - a massive pain in the ass - to someone who could start fires or even freeze him solid. Which is why he planned to act fast and take the contractor out as quickly as possible, before there was even a chance to use whatever powers he had. 

He rounded the corner, wire out and ready. He swung it forward at the large man standing at the side of the road, staring off into space, backed turned to him. It would be quick and efficient.

Except the man simply blurred and disappeared. His wire passed through empty air, and as he retracted it, he felt a presence behind him. He moved, darting sideways while spinning, his blade already in hand. The man was fast. Alarmingly so, he realized, as the sharp blade sunk deep into his side. 

His own blade swung harmlessly through empty air where the contractor had been, and with a sinking feeling he knew the man was not only a teleporter, but an extremely skilled one at that. It was obvious simply by the fact that he still had clothes on, since most teleporters actually couldn't bring their clothes with them. He hissed in pain as the wound on his side seared with pain, blood gushing from the wound. It had been pure luck that the man had caught his side, sweeping through the opening of his coat by mere inches. It would have bounced harmlessly off the side if he hadn't turned so sharply.

Hei turned, his blade in one hand, searching for the contractor, knowing he would reappear somewhere.

For a brief moment there was silence, broken only by his own breathing. He circled slowly, not wanting to keep his back turned for too long, less the teleporter appear behind him. To his surprise, the man reappeared directly in front of him, and he had to leap backward, leaning as far as he could to avoid the knife. The man disappeared immediately, without even finishing the strike, and he knew too late it had been a trick. His momentum was still carrying him back, and he hadn't even been able to right himself on his feet before something slammed into the side of his head. It was hard and blunt, and he fell, skidding across the ground and leaving a bloody streak from his side.

His head pounded, blood trickling from a gash where he was hit, but he forced himself to his feet. Or he started to. There was a knife at his throat before he even got halfway up, the sharp edge of the blade breaking skin. He froze. Using his power would cause the contractor's muscles to freeze up, which would have a good chance of shoving that knife straight through his esophagus. 

"Are you from the Syndicate?" The contractor asked. The most logical answer being yes, he did not wait for Hei to respond before continuing. "I suppose they sent you after me without even telling you anything about me."

Hei felt a cold feeling in the center of his chest. But that was part of the job of working with the underground organization. He and everyone else was simply expendable. Although he made the extra efforts to not be killed on the job, the organization would not bat an eye at the loss of one of their contractors. After all, there were always more. 

Hei said nothing. 

"My payment used to be a thing of necessity. But, in the past few years, I've grown to enjoy it..." The contractor said. 

And then a hand dug into the wound on his side, tearing open skin and flesh and muscle, leaving blood to pulse endlessly. Hei tried not to make a sound, but it was too much. The scream ripped out of his throat as agony ripped right through his side, and it took all of his remaining focus not to respond with his own power and fry the man right on the spot. The knife still digging into his throat, deeper now with his desperate movement of pain, a nagging warning. When the man pulled his hand from his side he tried to steady his breathing and straighten up, mainly so he didn't get his throat slit. 

He heard a sound, like an dog lapping water. 

"You ingest... blood?" Damn it, his voice was shaky. He wanted to blame it on the pain, but knew the blood loss would soon come in to play. 

"Oh yes. My payment. As a human I used to be so disgusted by the sight of blood, you see. Now, though..." The knife pulled away from his throat for a split second. Heat burned down his chest as it was sliced down his front, from his right collarbone, diagonally across to just under his left rib cage. At the same time he was kicked hard from behind, and he fell forward. 

His body was alive with pain, but the rage was building too. 

He tried to move. A heavy boot struck his upper side, and he was thrown bodily sideways, winded as ribs cracked. The contractor approached him with a steady gait, seemingly bored. 

It only made Hei angrier. He was supposed to be much stronger than this. 

But his vision was blurring, his blood a gruesome pool forming around him. He heard the soft squelch as the man stepped into his blood, and he struck. Electricity pooled through him, into the blood itself. The man screamed as he was electrocuted, and he pushed all his power into it, until he could smell burnt flesh in the air. 

He stopped, more out of exhaustion than control, and the contractor fell dead beside him.

Job done.

But he was pouring blood from both wounds. His side wound was by far deeper, while the slash across his chest covered so much area. He hissed in pain as he tried to move, forcing weak, shaking limbs to function. He couldn't stay here. Soon the police would arrive as someone must have heard his scream, and he didn't want to be around when they got here. They would know. His cover would be blown and he would be quietly executed by the organization. Much like this entire event. He stood up shakily, staggering sideways. Everything spun in a nauseating circle. He took brief note of the silence, realizing that his com must have been knocked out by the hit to his head. Now wasn't the time to look for it.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

He staggered forward, each step difficult. His ribs protested every step, and his body felt cold. It wasn't exactly summer anymore, and the blood was only creating a wet surface for the wind to chill faster. Combined with shock.

Sirens were closing in. He didn't have the energy or ability to look back to see if he was leaving a blood trail or if most of it was soaking into his clothing. He wasn't able to move fast enough to get away on foot, and he didn't have the strength left in his arms for his wire gun. That left one place to go.

Down. 

The fact the storm drain was damaged was a miracle. He dropped down, legs crumpling immediately upon impact. His body ached as he hit the ground, but the pain was dulled by fatigue and blood loss. He used the wall as support to get up again, before he stumbled forward, weak and shaking, arms wrapped around his ribs and side. 

When his vision shrank into a pinpoint, and his hearing became nothing more than a roar, his body gave out. He fell, crashing sideways into the water. It was cold, and he felt a brief moment of shock before he lost consciousness. 

Mao Mao Mao

Mao was worried. Contractors weren't supposed to feel worry. But he was slightly different, mainly because he was in the body of an animal, with human behaviors and thoughts being added to his cat brain via the server. This left him with a more human heart, so to say, than other contractors. Even when he had been in his original body, he hadn't felt emotion quite so strong. It was muted compared to that of an actual human, but it was there.

And boy, did he not like feeling emotion.

Yin had observed the fight enough to tell them the contractor was dead, but Hei was badly injured and bleeding severely. She observed where he went, and now Mao was padding along the edge of the sewers in one direction with Hoang going through the other side. He could hear the human grumbling and complaining, but he ignored it. Hoang acted tough and angry and he could be incredibly _racist_ when it came to contractors, but Mao knew the old man cared. Even if he didn't show it often. Mao's worry was complicated by the fact he was following the overpowering smell of blood. It was a _lot_ of blood. The cat had seen the massive smear on the floor before following the trail. 

His fur bristled in alarm when he saw the body lying motionless in the water. It was Hei. But he was breathing. Somewhat.

"I've found him. He's passed out in the water. There is a lot of blood here," he reported through his com. There was no way he was going in that water. He may not actually be a cat but he certainly did struggle with the qualms of being one. Such as disliking water. As it was it wasn't like he could actually do anything. He didn't possess the strength to do so much as move Hei.

"Almost there," Hoang's gravelly voice said. A moment later the large man turned the corner on the other end and started cursing profusely. The human had a flashlight, which allowed them both to see in full clarity the massive ring of red around Hei. The water wasn't deep enough that he would drown, and he was lucky his head was tilted to the side as opposed to down or he'd already be dead.

HeiHeiHei

Hei was almost surprised that he woke up again. He was sure he would have died. So much blood lost. He may be a contractor but he had the same bodily limitations as humans. If he bled out, he would die, just like anyone else. 

But as he did wake up, he almost wished he hadn't.

He felt sick. Not the _ate something bad and should know better next time_ kind of sick. The equally unpleasing and extremely debilitating sick. He felt simultaneously freezing and hot, as if he was lying in a pool of ice water while also being on fire. It didn't make sense. His rational mind couldn't process it. But his non-rational mind - the part he shouldn't have at all - was a lot more understanding. He had a fever. Most likely, a very strong fever. He could feel his body trembling violently, and as much as he struggled to control it, or just stop it outright, he couldn't even do that. He could feel a weight pressed over him, comforting and soft. A blanket. Something cool was being brushed across his forehead.

His pain center kicked in, reminding him that his body was far from okay.

His head was pounding, an almost foreign sensation. Contractors could get sick, and they could get head wounds and everything else, but unlike humans, they didn't get the simple things like random headaches and mild colds. With his mask and hood he had mostly avoided major head injuries in the past, and it had actually been quite some time since he had a headache. This was far worse than that time, if his memory was anything to go by, which it probably wasn't since his brain wasn't functioning. His head was taught with pressure, as if full to the brim and ready to burst. His eyes ached, his ears ached, and even his neck hurt. The place he had actually been hit felt tight, the skin taut and painful. The rest of the pain must be from whatever he was sick with. Whatever was causing the fever. 

He felt his ribs next, mainly because they flared with every breath. Cracked, he was sure. But maybe there was a broken one. He couldn't quite tell. His mind was fleeting and didn't let him think about any one thing for too long. He could feel the cut over his chest, covering enough of an area for the skin, that was likely stitched back together, to twinge with each rise and fall of his chest.

But the worst of it was his side. It was a pit of agony, a knife buried deep in his side. A burning knife. It hurt and itched to the point he began to struggle feebly, but found it difficult to move. Pain was piercing into him, and he hissed through his teeth as he clenched his jaw tight, trying to push away the hands holding him down. He tried to fight harder, ignoring - no, using - the pain that was building up as energy. He felt suddenly cold, nausea rolling closer to the surface. He did not want to be sick in this state. He hadn't been sick since before he had become a contractor. 

"Damn it, hold still! We just got your wounds to stop bleeding!" The gruff voice sounded familiar but his mind couldn't place it. 

It was a swirl of pain and confusion and dizziness,. He could feel himself shaking, his hands numb and tingling. He managed to open his eyes to a world without clarity. Moving shapes, shadows swirling between patches of light. His stomach lurched violently at the strange motions. He managed to turn his head before retching, making his side explode into fiery pain once again. 

"Shit," someone said. 

Everything was fading, numbness spreading through his body once more. The pain was muted.

A voice tried and failed to follow him into unconsciousness.

Mao Mao Mao

Getting him out of the sewers and into some place that was remotely safe had been hell. Hoang had dragged him from the water, while Mao watched, unable to do anything else. Somehow he was still losing blood, a remarkable feat considering how much he had already lost. Mao wasn't sure just how much more he _could_ lose before it killed him. Hei was motionless, pale, and soaked through with icy water. Mao had seen him injured before. Hell, he had even watched as Hoang shot him in the leg once. But the guy always got up and kept pushing forward, ignoring his injuries. Not now. Now, Mao could practically sense the life flowing from whatever wounds he had.

They made it to a room. It wasn't anywhere he recognized. It wasn't where Hoang lived - Mao had made it a point to track down the locations of all his team, in case something happened. But it seemed to be somewhere Hoang went, because there was food and medical supplies. 

He busied himself with getting out of the damn way. He tried not to make any comments about Hoang helping a 'freak' before the man pulled off the sopping wet clothes from Hei's torso and his eyes caught sight of the gaping wound on his side. It was large, far larger than an ordinary stab wound. And deep. The blood was slowing but probably not for a good reason. Either he was running out of blood to lose or it was the cold - or both. There was an ugly slash across Hei's chest, far too long. Yin arrived after Hoang's directions given over the coms, following orders like any doll. Although she was slightly different than a normal doll. Mao saw it. He was sure Hei saw it too. Hoang simply needed more hands, and it was easiest for him to tell someone what to do when they weren't emotionally unwilling to do so. Humans could be so squeamish. 

The chest wound only needed stitches. The ribs, which were becoming bruised, were wrapped. The wound on the side proved to be extremely problematic. Too large for stitches, since there wasn't enough skin to stretch across the opening. Instead it was doused liberally with alcohol, because that was all Hoang had for that, then packed heavily with gauze. It took a total of ten minutes for a red spot to appear on the outer bandage. 

Hei didn't wake at all.

That night, Mao woke to the sour stink of infection. That wasn't very surprising, considering he had been lying in a bacteria-infested storm drain with his wounds in the middle of the nasty looking water. But it wasn't good. If he wasn't a cat, he wouldn't have noticed any sign of infection until it got worse - swollen, red, and puss-filled. 

The wound was too deep to risk letting the infection run wild without antibiotics.

He mentioned that to Hoang, who left to find some. Which meant stealing some. 

Yin sat motionless in a chair next to Hei, her pink eyes staring off into space. Dolls didn't sleep, and while it was slightly creepy for them to just stare at nothing all day, all night, and every minute in between, he had gotten used to it. It wasn't like she was staring into his soul. More likely she was watching Hoang, watching where he was going while also checking to see if anything was coming out of the police over the dead contractor. Everyone knew when a star fell that a contractor was dead, so when they found that body, they would likely assume it was him. She didn't say anything, so he doubted anything bad was going on.

Well, nothing more bad than what was happening here.

By the time Hoang showed back up with the stolen goods, Hei was feverish, shivering and sweating. The smell of infection was more pungent. Dawn was breaking. The light streaming into the window made color apparent. Cats could see at night better than humans but he couldn't quite see color that well. Not until the light streamed in. Hei's face was chalky white, shaking fitfully under the blanket he had been covered with. 

He noticed Yin suddenly wiping at his forehead without even looking, one of those strange mannerisms she had that made her different from other dolls. Like a mother caring for a sick child.

Hei woke up. Mao noticed it immediately when he saw the frown on Hei's face. "He's awake," Mao announced. He frowned, because Hei didn't react to his voice. In fact, he didn't react at all, as if he hadn't even heard anything. Instead, he seemed to be frozen for a moment before he began to move. If he hadn't been so delirious from fever and weak from blood loss he probably would have managed to jump up, send everyone flying, and escape. But instead, his movements were feeble, pained, and unhelpful. Given that his side was finally no longer bleeding and all. 

Huang said as much, trying to hold him still while Mao jumped onto the table where the antibiotics were sitting. It had an unreadable name so he suspected it was a powerful one.

Hei struggled more, before suddenly tuning his head and throwing up on the floor. Mao wrinkled his nose in distaste, wishing he didn't have the sharpened senses of a cat. But hey, what could he do? His body was destroyed. Maybe he could find an animal that didn't have a sense of smell to camp out in for awhile. 

Mao backed away, mostly to distance himself from the vomit as Hei somehow went even paler, his eyes wide with pain and confusion while bright with fever. 

"Damn you, stay awake," Hoang snapped.

Hei only listened to some orders. He didn't listen to that one, because he lost consciousness several moments after. 

The bandages were removed to reveal a now freshly bleeding side wound, as well as very inflamed flesh and a fresh smell of infection. Mao curled his lip and turned away, not really wanting to look at it or smell it. The infection had set in alarmingly fast, and in a wound of that depth... well, hopefully the antibiotics would do their work.

HeiHeiHei

It should be unreasonable to be this tired after having slept. When he first woke, he was aware of how weak his body felt, as if he hadn't moved in days. Maybe he wasn't even capable of movement. That wouldn't surprise him. He could feel the soreness in his muscles. The pain had receded into the back of his mind at least, not having quite as bad of an impact as that blurry moment from before. Right now he felt warm. Far, far too warm. The blanket was still there, and it was uncomfortably hot. He was sweating, and his skin was tingling. He slowly began to shift the blanket off, without bothering to open his eyes. He didn't feel nauseous but he didn't want to feel sick if he opened his eyes and the world was still a blur of spinning lights. 

"I don't think you should be moving," the strong tenor told him it was Mao.

Against his initial interest he opened his eyes, relieved that his vision was mostly normal. Everything was a little unclear, but stable. Mao was perched on the edge of the table, tail flicking lazily from side to side. The cat's round purple eyes watched him.

"It's hot," he replied. His voice sounded hoarse. His throat was dry and he felt his lip beginning to crack. So he wouldn't smile. Or talk much. Whatever might make his cracked lips split open. He managed to move the blanket off to the side, but it didn't seem to help. He was still uncomfortably hot. 

"Your wounds are infected. Hard not to be when you face-planted into sludge water," Mao explained, yawning.

Hei made a non-verbal sound of acknowledgement. Now that he was a little more conscious he was reminded of the pains in his side. And his ribs, which protested with every breath. The cut across his chest was minimally throbbing compared to those, and the headache was gone. And he remembered.

"What day is it?" He asked.

Mao paused for a moment, probably pulling the date from the system he was connected to. Cats didn't really have a use for calendars. "Tuesday," Mao replied eventually. 

Tuesday... which meant...

"Shit," he cursed, and his lip finally split and blood slopped over it. Sucking in a deep breath he forced himself to sit up, ignoring the agonizing pain that flared through his side and the howl from the cat.

"What are you doing you damn idiot!" 

He hissed in pain and his arm moved to his side. "I have to meet Maseki later...as Li," he said, stubbornly inferring that he would take no arguments. Mao was giving him the best glare that a cat could give just as Hoang came through the door carrying a bottle of beer. He didn't look very surprised.

"I expected you to be up already," Hoang said, downing his beer in an instant.

Hei didn't respond, standing shakily. His vision grayed out for a brief moment in which he struggled to stay on his feet. He grasped out, using the wall as support until he could see clearly. Brilliant pink eyes stared back at him. Yin, sitting in the corner, expression as blank as ever. Breathing in hard and immediately regretting it, he found a shirt and his Black Reaper accessories lying on the table Mao was perched in. His chest was a patchwork of bruises and bandages, and he couldn't go out on the street looking like that. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his shirt. 

"You need to rest," Mao said. Was that... concern?

"I'll be fine," he replied automatically. 

It would just be one night. What could go wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Musaki must take care of Li when his wound reopens and she discovers who he really is.

“This is a terrible idea,” Mao said, following Hei at a distance as he slowly made his way to his apartment. He chose not to respond to the cat, limping carefully around potholes and anything else that might possibly increase the pain in his side. Why, of all nights, did this have to be the night he had ended up inviting Misaki over for dinner? It wasn’t even a date. Well, that’s what he had told himself. She had invited him to dinner before, and he had only felt, at the time, that he should return the favor. It was an odd relationship. As Li, he and Misaki were friends. But as Hei, they were, by job descriptions, enemies. Even though he didn’t _want_ to hurt her or fight with her, it would almost be impossible not to at some point.

“You could just call it off, you know,” Mao continued in his reasonable way. The cat was really starting to get on his nerves. He ignored him.

He didn’t even have a phone.

His momentary lapse in observation caused him to stumble over the curb, hard enough that his side throbbed furiously and light flared into his vision. He grabbed at his side, and wished his ribs didn’t ache so much so he could at least breath normally. 

“Really, you should not be going anywhere.”

“Shut up Mao,” he snarled, pain making him more irritable than usual. 

Mao, wisely, did as he was told. 

As he approached his apartment building, Mao disappeared into the shadows. He and the landlady just didn’t get along. The last time she caught him, she send him straight to an animal shelter and he had to break in and rescue him. It was not a situation Huang had been particularly happy about, and neither he or Mao liked to hear that man complain more than he already did. 

He saw the landlady out and taking care of the front gate, and he slipped into his Li persona smoothly. A more relaxed gait – or as relaxed as he could possibly go without causing unnecessary amounts of pain – and softened the expression on his face. He could never quite get the dead look of grief and guilt from his eyes, which he tried to pass off as the lack of emotion of a contractor. The problem was he didn’t lack emotion, as much as he tried to hide it behind a wall of apathy. He even dreamed, although most often they were nightmares. He chose not to tell anyone that. Better they didn’t know. 

“Hello Li!” She called. She liked him because he didn’t cause any trouble. He forced a smile, ready to say hello before her expression changed to a frown of concern. “Are you alright? You look pale,” she said. 

Li nodded. “Hello,” he replied in false cheerfulness. He wished cheerfulness and happiness wasn’t a front. That he could actually feel it for real. “Just an accident at work,” he lied far more easily than he could smile. He felt guilty lying to such a kind lady. She had a sharp edge but she, unlike many others, actually seemed to care. 

“An accident? You should get some rest.” She would have said more if she wasn’t interrupted by a phone call. 

Relieved for the quick break, he made the awkward process of climbing the steps to his room. He could feel his body sagging down, pained and weakened. He leaned against his door before opening it, breathing slowly. Winded from climbing the stairs. Mao would have a comment to make about that. 

He eased into his sparsely furnished apartment, looking at his only source of time. He would have just enough time to cook and change his clothing into something more proper, although he felt dizzy just at the thought of putting on a nice jacket. Maybe he’d skip that altogether. Misaki probably wouldn’t mind. She didn’t seem to be the type to worry over appearances.

Rice, noodles, vegetables. He even fried up some meat. Enough food to feed a small army. His appetite was unending, and he hadn’t eaten since… well, he couldn’t remember. It had been at least a full day, probably more depending how much time had passed while he was recovering from fever.

His stomach felt like an empty pit, although he also felt a little nauseous. He hoped it would go away once he started eating.

He had just enough time to slightly clean up, brushing his hair awkwardly with his right arm, since moving with his left made his chest wound tug at the stitches. By the time there was a knock at his door he looked almost human. He was more pale than usual though, and she hoped she didn’t notice too much. He opened the door, putting that typical ‘Li’ smile on his face. 

She was dressed far more nicely than he was. “Wow, that smells good,” she remarked as he shuffled backward so she could enter his small apartment. Not having a lot of furniture certainly helped make the space look bigger. He was sure if it was normally furnished there wouldn’t even be space to move. 

There was barely enough room on the table to eat with all the plates of food. But since she already knew how ravenous his appetite was, she didn’t make a comment.

“How was your day?” he asked, waiting until her back was turned to ease himself awkwardly into his seat, one hand automatically moving up towards his side when it twinged at the pressure. He hadn’t been able to check if he had bled through the bandage, and he hoped he hadn’t. That would be one way to kill the night – his side turning red with blood. 

“Not very eventful today. It’s a nice break from the past few days,” she replied, piling food on her plate, which was resting dangerously near the edge of the overcrowded table.

He pretended not to know what she was talking about when she said _yesterday_ as he quickly shoved a spoonful of rice in his mouth. Anything to fill that void in his stomach. “Oh. That’s good. If it was uneventful that meant no one got hurt,” he replied casually. Then he made a face, as if confused. “What happened before?” 

She shrugged, eating at a much slower pace than he was. 

“There was a fight the other night. A guy ended up dead.” A guy being the contractor. “Whoever was fighting him was badly hurt but we haven’t been able to find him,” she continued. She was silent for a moment. “I hope he’s okay.”

He was surprised by her words. While he had not outwardly gone after anyone on her team as BK-201, and in fact had helped them once or twice, he knew in reality that they were basically ‘enemies’. A criminal and a cop. There could be cross-boundary feelings between a contractor and a cop. And yet, despite that realization, he still felt a brief surge of warmth. 

“Hopefully things stay quiet,” was all he said. 

They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, being broken by random comments about work and fake studies and occasional jokes. He wished half of what he said was true. It felt wrong to speak lies to someone who trusted him.

While he managed to finish his portion, his body was starting to throb in protest, as if filling his stomach was causing pressure on his wounds. 

“Did you eat too much?” She asked, although it was partially a joke. She had probably seen him wince.

“Never,” he replied. 

He started to rise, feeling slightly refreshed having eaten and not quite so exhausted. He saw her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he felt it. The warm trickling of blood down his side. 

_Shit!_

“Uh.” He needed a good excuse.

“Li, you’re bleeding!” She exclaimed, immediately jumping up and moving to help him. He winced slightly, wishing he could pull backward. This wasn’t a wound that he wanted touched. It was so painful already, a constant nagging in the back of his mind, more sharp than his ribs or even the slightly burning wound across his chest. 

But the wall was behind him.

“I had a bit of an accident at work. I forgot to check the bandage,” he lied. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. It had been at work, and he definitely had forgotten the bandage. Although it was a bit wrapped a bit more complex than the average wound. 

“An accident?” She echoed. She tugged up his shirt, and he felt himself blushing slightly without any warning. The large bandage, held in place by a wrapping around his side, was already stained dark red with blood. It was so soaked that fresh blood was oozing down his side, trickling into the top of his pants. She gave him a look of disbelief. “Looks like more than an _accident_.”

“You’ve been bleeding this entire time and said nothing?” Her hands touched his skin near his side and he flinched as if he was struck. The inflammation made the area much more sensitive. “And your skin is burning,” she added, giving him a look that suggested he did not try to stop her. 

“Sit down,” it was most definitely an order. He wasn’t going to argue. 

He wobbled awkwardly back toward the chair, more than willing to sit down. Except he bumped into the edge of the table after being struck by a sudden bout of dizziness, and his lungs betrayed him as he coughed, and every single flicker of light in the entire room flared into a spectacular, blinding force.

And then it faded.

MisakiMisakiMisaki

She had noticed he was a little pale. Unfortunately she hadn’t thought much about it at the time, considering he had such a pale complexion a lot of the time. It wasn’t until he stood that she realized not only were his movements stiff, but his side had a rapidly growing red stain around it. His face had gone paler, and she could see the sweat on his skin. She doubted he even realized how bad he looked, considering the confusion and the way he acted normal.

The gauze was drenched. More drenched than any normal, pressure-wrapped strip of gauze should be. His skin was hot. He was responsive, but she could see the look in his eyes, behind the mask of confusion. Steadily growing discomfort. 

That should have been enough of a warning for her to make sure she guided him to the chair without him collapsing or stumbling, but she didn’t, and he staggered directly into the table. She heard him coughing suddenly before he simply collapsed. 

What the fuck?

She knelt down beside Li, whose eyes were closed, rolling behind his eyelids. She knew she had to stop the bleeding, but as she started to press on the soaked gauze she realized she could see another cut just under the bottom of his jutting rib cage. She pulled his shirt up further to reveal the cut stretched all the way to his right collar bone, stitched together tightly. And his ribs were deeply bruised, blue and purple. What kind of ‘accident’ had he gotten into? A car accident? Something much worse?

Or was he lying? These wounds didn’t seem like anything that came from an accident. In fact… it looked more like he had gotten attacked. Images of the knives found at the scene of the dead contractor flooded into her mind. 

Was it possible?

She didn’t want it to be possible, but there was a chance. She wanted to believe he had been attacked by the contractor and BK-201 had stepped in. But there was a darker part of her that remembered when she had recognized Li from behind and thought it looked exactly like BK-201. And the odd ways he always seemed to be in placed BK-201 eventually appeared, before disappearing. Working odd jobs in every place that something big went down. 

In the meantime, blood was beginning to flow between her fingers and she had to focus. She could deal with the rest of it later.

She ended up using a giant folded up heap of paper towel to keep pressing on the injury, until fresh blood stopped dripping down. He was shaking, still unconscious but making the occasional pained sound. 

The paper towel wasn’t going to cut it. He needed fresh bandaging and gauze and sooner than later. She was willing to bet he was on antibiotics to control infection and fever, or he would certainly be much worse off considering the extent of his wounds. She was surprised to find a rather extensive medical kit in the small bathroom in his apartment, complete with cleaning patches, gauze, and tape. It only cemented the awareness that he was certainly doing something he shouldn’t be doing, and was maybe the one she had been after all along.

She worked fast, trying to ignore the sickening horror of the giant wound in his side – it was so much larger than any knife wound could lead to – and the sign of infection as foul blood, mixed with puss, dribbled out. At least the bleeding was slowing to safer level. She swallowed thickly, wondering how a man in his condition had even made it home and _cooked_. There was some incredible amount of will power going on here.

She was only glad he was unconscious for it when she tried to gently pack the wound as well as it had been. She sat back for a moment, staring down at her hands. Her hands that were covered in Li… in BK-201’s blood. He hadn’t woken up yet, still lying unconscious on his kitchen floor.

She sighed, sitting down in her formerly vacated chair. 

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. There would be a lot of talking when he woke up, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really want this to turn into a revelation chapter so I stopped at that point. Mostly, I like the idea of her taking care of my favorite sort-of-contractor. I'm glad to see there is a community here still, albeit it a small one! I really wish they'd do a reboot or a movie or something to get more interest in this amazing anime! I have another story planned, but it's much darker and far more gruesome - for Hei.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a possibility for a part 2, mainly with his counterpart "Li" trying to return to his life while recovering from his injuries and Li's friends finding out he's hurt and trying to help him. Basically just a continuation of him going to see Misaki (again, no pairings, I just like them as friends) while he's still really hurt and running a fever and not doing so well. I'm not sure how active the community is for this anime considering it's rather old (I really really wish they'd do a reboot or another series or even just a movie (anime movie, not a live action movie)) just to bring in more activity and interest!
> 
> Also if you can't tell my favorite characters are Hei and Mao.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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